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"Just clean up the aftermath."
"Yes, my Queen."
And that was all.
She walked forward again, down the corridor, toward the vault on the western wing. Her robe still hung loosely, but her eyes no longer looked calm.
They looked focused.
Like fire behind glass.
A different kind of Lilith was beginning to wake.
Not the illusionist. Not the singer. Not the public icon.
But the original.
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